


Bruises

by Cock_Zero



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank slips down the steps to the basement, ending up with a dark bruise on his hip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this picture.](http://cock-zero.tumblr.com/post/66503867536)

Frank flipped on the light, adjusting the heavy box on his hip. He moved it, holding the box with both hands and partially blocking his view as he shuffled down the steps. 

“You sure you don’t need a hand?” Gerard called from the kitchen.

Frank could hear the plates clinking in the sink as he washed them. “Nah, I got it,” he replied. He moved slowly, feeling out his steps as he descended. 

The box wobbled in his hands, lurching forward and Frank jerked back. His heel slipped off the step and he dropped the box, sticking his hands out behind himself as he fell. He twisted his body and the box clattered to the ground, Christmas ornaments scattering across the floor. His left palm was the first to hit the wood steps, then his hip collided with the edge of the step and he groaned. 

“Frank?! What happened?” Gerard exclaimed, running to the doorway.

Frank groaned, coughing and hissing sharply as he pushed himself up. Gerard hurried down the steps, gripping Frank’s arm with warm, wet hands and helping him to sit. “I, fuck. I slipped. The box got away from me,” he said, holding his hand just over his hip, not even touching the skin. He could already feel the heat coming off it and he sucked in a breath, standing to his feet.

Gerard looked down to the box before turning back to Frank. “C’mon. Let’s get some ice on that,” he said softly, helping him up the stairs.

Frank hissed again and whined. “But the ornaments,” he started, being cut off by Gerard tutting at him.

“I’ll pick them up later,” he said, leading him through the kitchen.

The dishes were still in the sink, suds streaked across the counter from where Gerard had obviously rushed away. They walked through, Frank limping slightly, and entered the living room.

He sat on the sofa and Gerard helped him lay on his left side, sliding his shirt up to expose the red and tender bruise. Frank looked down, seeing it cut through the word ‘search’ on his side. He groaned and dropped his head to the pillow on the couch.

Gerard stood and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a kitchen towel from the cabinet and, placing it over his cupped hand, held it under the ice maker. He pushed the button, releasing it when a few ice cubes fell into the cloth. He closed the cloth around the cubes and twisted it, sealing the cubes in as he walked back to the couch.

“How bad is it?” Frank asked, voice muffled by the cushion.

“Um.” Gerard bit his lip, looking at the bruise blooming under the ink. “Not too bad?”

Frank lifted his head and glared. He hissed when the cloth touched his side, shrinking away from it. “Ah! Fucker, that hurts!” he whined.

Gerard shook his head, sitting on the sofa in front of Frank’s legs. “Baby,” he teased, bringing the cloth back to his side. He pressed it gently to the bruise and Frank whined, grabbing the cushion under his head. “Here, keep this on the bruise while I go clean up the basement,” he said, poking Frank in the stomach.

Frank groaned, reaching for the cloth. He clutched it carefully and let it just rest over the red skin, sighing. He grabbed the remote from the arm of the sofa and flipped the TV on. 

He heard Gerard moving around the basement, the sounds of him picking up the plastic ornaments floating up the staircase. 

Gerard grunted and lifted the box, taking it to the shelf in the corner. He placed it near the bottom before standing again and heading back up the stairs. He walked back to the sink and finished washing the few dishes, draining the water and drying his hands. He headed back into the living room, Frank still lounging on the sofa, the cloth resting lightly on his hip.

Frank glanced over at him for a second and turned back to the TV. His feet were lifted off the couch and Gerard sat, resting them over his thighs.

“How much does it hurt?” he asked, rubbing Frank’s thigh.

“A lot,” Frank mumbled.

Gerard leaned over and grabbed the cloth, moving it off his hip. He looked at the bruise with a frown. It was already turning deep red and purple.

Frank pulled his arm up, sliding it under the pillow and closing his eyes. The dull throbbing in his side was making it very hard for him to focus on the show playing. He sucked in a breath when a soft pressure brushed over the skin and he looked up.

Gerard was still bent over, lips touching Frank’s hip lightly. He kissed just under the bruise, staring up at Frank.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked.

“Kissing it better, of course,” Gerard stated, like it was obvious. 

He pressed another kiss to his skin, just barely touching the bruise and Frank hissed, arching his hip away. “That hurts,” he whined.

“That’s why I’m kissing it. Don’t you know anything? Boyfriend kisses have magical powers,” Gerard grinned.

Frank stuck his tongue out and Gerard mimicked him, licking over the bruise and making him whimper.

“Aww, I’m sorry. Am I making it worse?” he chuckled, placing light kiss to the uninjured part of Frank’s hip.

“Yes,” Frank pouted. He poked out his bottom lip and Gerard smirked. “Ah, please don’t. It really hurts. You can poke at it in a few days if you want, just not while it’s fresh.” He shoved at Gerard’s shoulder, pushing him away.

“Fine,” Gerard said. He sat up and grabbed Frank’s hand, kissing the knuckles before letting go and resting his arms over Frank’s legs.


End file.
